His Fault
by Fadingspirit
Summary: Albus sat down in a chair, and gazed at the floor. Albus closed his eyes. He felt the tears threatening to fall, but didn't stop them. What would people say if they knew that he, Albus Dumbledore, was crying. Albus slowly stood up, shaking. He looked at the nurse, with such sadness, it could break one's heart. "Can I see her?" he asked, politeness forgotten.


Albus paced the room. It was empty. He closed his eyes, praying that the results would be positive. The door opened. A woman stepped inside. She was wearing a white nurse's outfit. She shut the door behind her, and turned to face Albus. She simply shook her head, studying the man before her carefully.

The usual twinkle in his eyes, was gone, and as she watched the man, she realized it probably never would return.

Albus sat down in a chair, and gazed at the floor. Albus closed his eyes. He felt the tears threatening to fall, but didn't stop them. What would people say if they knew that he, Albus Dumbledore, was crying. Albus slowly stood up, shaking. He looked at the nurse, with such sadness, it could break one's heart.

"Can I see her?" he asked, politeness forgotten. The nurse nodded, and gestured for him to follow her. She led him to a small room. In the room, there was a single bed. Albus walked over to it. He felt, what remained of his heart, shatter into a million pieces.

The girl on the bed, was so pale. Her once lively, stormy blue eyes, were now dull, and glazed over. Staring, but not seeing. Albus buried his fingers in the girl's dark brown hair. He gazed down at her pale, lifeless body.

She was gone. She was never coming back. She would never sit in the Great Hall again, never join him for dinner in his office, never even graduate from Hogwarts.

Albus felt the tears fall.

She would never come back. He slowly lowered himself onto the bed, next to the lifeless body, of his former student, the most mischievous student of her time, the only female member of the marauders. She was gone, and she wasn't coming back.

To any onlooker, it would seem like the headmaster had been picking favourites, but to anyone who knew of the strong connection before the former student and headmaster, it would seem normal.

Albus hugged the body of the girl to his chest. He let the tears fall, he let his heart shatter, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop them.

He had known from the very beginning that when she died, a piece of him would die with her, he had just never expected for it to happen so soon. She was still a student, he hadn't even been headmaster long, and he wouldn't even see her graduate.

 _(Flashback)_

 _Albus gazed around the living room. Everything was perfect. His life was perfect. A small hand, grabbing at his robe brought him back to reality._

 _"_ _But, Albus, you never play with me." the owner of the hand complained. The one year old girl had very dark brown and lively stormy blue eyes. She was an adorable child. Albus shook his head._

 _"_ _Sorry, I have to review this application, I have an interview with someone wanting the job soon." He said, shaking the child off._

 _"_ _But Aberforth won't play with me. And your interviews are like in ages, it's Christmas, they're not til the end of the year." The girl complained. Her gray eyes pleading._

 _"_ _I said no."_

 _(end flashback)_

Albus closed his eyes, wishing he could go back in time and play with her. But she was gone, it was too late. The child would never return.

What would he tell the Marauders? They were expecting to see a healthy, lively child return to them. How could he tell them their best friend, their fellow Marauder was dead?

He couldn't do it! It would break their hearts. No sixteen-year-old deserved this.

She was sill so young, she had so much to do with her life. She had to get married, have children, and watch them go to Hogwarts.

She hadn't even made it to her seventeenth birthday. She would never learn to apparate, she would never even get a job because she was dead.

It seemed so unfair. Two simple words and all the life was sucked out of her body. Curse whoever created the "Avada Kedavra!"

She had been tortured. Tortured for information that she couldn't give. Information that she didn't have.

She had never become a member of the Order, because he had never let her. She didn't know their whereabouts, she didn't know how many members there were, or who they were.

He should have protected her. He had let James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and Lily join but he had refused her.

What kind of teacher was he? She had called him her friend, not just a teacher, not just a relative, she was his friend, and she was dead.

Her smile would never light up the room again. Right then, Albus would have given anything just to see her prank Severus again. If only, he had gotten there sooner. If only, he had acted sooner. If only. . .

He wished he could go back, but he couldn't. He couldn't use the time-turner, because the Ministry had taken it away, thinking he would use it.

They didn't care, they didn't care that his student, his friend, his. . . was dead.

The Ministry was cruel. They didn't care. They only cared for themselves. They only cared about important people. Only the rich, wealthy, pureblood families were important.

Only families like the Blacks, the Potters, the Malfoys, the Zabinis, the Parkinsons were important. The Dumbledores didn't matter, the Evans didn't matter, the Lupins didn't matter, the Pettgirews didn't matter, the Snapes didn't matter, not even the Roberts mattered.

Albus gazed down into those endless blue orbs. The twinkle in her eyes was gone. Merlin, she looked so much like her mother!

Albus's heart ached, he could have protected her, he could have protected both of them, but he didn't get there in time.

This was his fault. All his fault. It was his fault she was lying her, pale, lifeless, limp, dead. He could have done something.

Albus clutched the girl to his chest, he buried his face in her hair. She smelled like flowers. He felt the tears streaming down his cheeks, her hair was damp, causing it to go an even darker brown.

She was gone. She would never come back. That was it. No "JK" no "ha-ha, we got you" she was dead, and she was never coming back.

He was such a horrible father.

Arden Dumbledore, his precious little girl, his angel, his Marauder, his only reminder of her mother, was dead, gone. And it was all his fault.


End file.
